


The Conception Of Domesticity

by peterstofu



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Breeding Kink, College Student Peter, Detailed Mpreg, Fluff, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnancy, Pregnancy Kink, Smut, Surrogacy, Surrogate Peter, background Pepper Potts/Natasha Romanov - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:49:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21992482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterstofu/pseuds/peterstofu
Summary: Tony has accomplished nearly everything he's set out to do, now he wants something different. A family of his own? Sounds easy enough. But he's far too impatient for a relationship, so surrogacy it is.Meanwhile, twenty-two year old college student Peter Parker has just volunteered to be a bearer at an agency.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Comments: 32
Kudos: 343





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> `hello, lovely readers! this is a little something i wrote for an au i just adore. it's going to be a pretty short fast-paced story. this is also just a more edited version of the one i wrote on tumblr. i'll be posting something more serious in the future i'm sure! also please forgive me if i've gotten any information on surrogacy wrong. i did as much research as i could but i can be a little forgetful. `
> 
> `anyway! please enjoy reading!! 💗`

Tony insists he get through the process on his own.

Pepper, bless her heart, worries and hovers over his shoulder as he considers his option of agencies. Annoying but not intolerable. She’s family, and Tony’s grateful to have her at his back in case he teeters towards the abyss of self-doubt.

It’s an awful lot of responsibility to raise a child, especially if you’re going at it alone. And there was a tremendous amount of self-reflection on his part, then months of therapy before Tony even allowed himself to humour the idea.

He wants a kid. He wants to be a father. However, given Tony's lifestyle and his relevancy within media, it's difficult to find someone who isn't completely parasitic. Dating would be an unnecessary hassle. 

Fuck it. He’ll do it on his own.

He’s confident he can. He’s the godfather to Pepper and Natasha’s kid. Dmitri adores him. He’s babysat countless times. Of course he can be a good dad. It might’ve taken him a while to realise that, but he still got here, didn’t he?

Of course, he wouldn’t just get a kid on an impulse. He has to be in a place where his hands are steady and sure. A child is not a purse or a new pair of shoes. He can’t toss them aside after they’ve served their purpose.

He’s not Howard. He would never be Howard.

Tony won’t be the monster in his kid’s closet. He refuses to be the nightmare his child will wake up from thirty years later. He’s going to be better. He’s an overachiever, after all. And he’s going to love his kid until his dying day.

“You sure you wanna go the traditional route? That could potentially cause some issues,” Pepper murmurs around the fingernail she’s been chewing anxiously on for the past few minutes. “We should be prepared in the case that the bearer… lingers after the birth. They would be the child’s biological parent too, and if they decide to take advantage of that… We’ll have to speak carefully with the attorneys. It shouldn’t be something to worry too much about.”

“We’ll find a suitable candidate. Preferably one who cares little about my status and/or doesn’t know me at all. That last one could be a little difficult, unless my future baby mama has spent the last forty years under a rock.” Tony shrugs with an easy grin. “Which, I mean, that could be interesting conversation.”

Pepper’s lips pinch, her expression a mix of reluctant fondness and complete exhaustion. He’s familiar with the look. He’s often at the receiving end of it after he’s made a particularly poor choice. He swears it’s Rhodey’s resting face.

“Again, we’ll have to go over this with the attorney. I’m not risking anything,” she says, squinting at the information laid out before them.

“I thought we agreed that I would be handling everything? It’s my kid.” Tony quirks an amused brow at her.

“It’s great that you’ve been preparing yourself, but Tony, we can’t cut corners with this. This is going to be a long, long process. You’ll be in constant contact with the bearer, who knows what might happen during those nine months.” Pepper sets her hand on his shoulder, her red painted lips curving gently, warmly. “Let me help. Let me make sure the kid gets into your arms and stays there. All you have to do is build the nursery and baby proof the place.”

Tony takes the time to return her smile, turning his head slightly to press his lips to her cheek in gratitude. “You spoil me, Ms. Potts.”

—

He settles on _Little Sapling Surrogacy_ ; an agency known for the gentle care of their bearers, their impeccable top of the line facilities, and their friendly and hardworking staff. As promised, Pepper takes it upon herself to ensure that the process goes as smoothly as possible.

Tony isn’t sure how she does it. Being a mother of a rowdy three year old on top of being CEO of the most renowned tech conglomerate on the planet. He’s constantly astounded by her strength. In exchange, he attempts to take some of the load off her shoulders. He attends board meetings, endures hours of polite conversation, and lunch dates with potential partners. He babysits when she wants to spend time with Natasha. He signs whatever she wants him to. It’s the least he can do for her, considering she’s essentially trying to make sure he ends up with a child after all this.

Before long she’s presenting him with five files of prospective surrogates with similar surrogacy plans, leaving him with a flat, disapproving head shake when he cracks a joke about how this all seems like the ‘baby mama bachelorette’.

He takes the files with him down into the workshop after a quick coffee break. He’ll go through them while he looks over the schematics for his new line of prosthetic; a little passion project after Bucky had complained about the incessant creak of his prosthesis.

He drains his first cup of coffee after reading through the first three candidates. Standard information. A little bit about their lifestyle, their family, and their hobbies. Predictably, none of them have any bad habits to speak of. All healthy bearers, ranging from mid-twenties to early thirties. They’re all attractive, because let’s be honest, Tony wants his kid to be a little bit of a heart-breaker and Pepper knew this when she picked up the files.

Prospective surrogate number four is like the previous three: moderately good-looking, educated, and fit to carry a Stark child.

Boring.

It’s number five that has Tony perking up in interest.

The eyes get him first. Those big, beautiful brown eyes, staring dazedly out at him, as if the camera had gone off before the poor boy was ready. Tony’s gaze travels down a little further and he gets distracted for a moment by the smattering of freckles across the boy’s nose and cheeks, but then he gets to those smiling lips, and he’s gone.

He sits there and stares, imagines carding his fingers through those impossibly soft looking curls, how the boy would turn his face against his palm like a flower seeking sunlight. His fingers tingle picturing it. It takes him a good five minutes until he can convince himself to look at the rest of the file.

_Peter Benjamin Parker. 22 years old. Date of birth: August 10th 1997. Residency: Queens, New York. Student at NYU. Majoring in biochemistry. Hobbies: Engineering, photography, and travelling._

Fuck. Smart _and_ beautiful. He’s perfect.

Tony tells himself not to get attached. If he does choose Peter as his surrogate, he has to keep himself at a certain distance. It would be inappropriate for him to get any closer than it is necessary but… Peter will be pregnant with his child… he… Peter will be… be big and round with Tony’s kid at the end of their nine months together, because of course Tony will want to keep an eye on them 24/7. Peter will be carrying a Stark… he’ll, fuck, he’ll have to be kept safe. He’ll have to stay by Tony at all times.

He had always planned for the surrogate to stay within the tower during the pregnancy. It’s a given. It’s expected.

He tries. He really tries not to grin when he hands Pepper Peter’s file the morning after and says, “Him.”

—

He arranges a meeting with Peter at the end of the week. Pepper meets him first a few days before with the lawyers present, going over the legal contract with him until they were in agreement. Tony had already consented, however after witnessing his besotted expression when speaking about Peter, Pepper had forbade him from attending that particular meeting in fear that he would cave and give Peter all his assets. Pepper had been very specific and thorough about the confidentiality details, so he’s been told. It was important that Peter keep the specifics of their arrangement to himself for now considering Tony’s high profile.

The boy had agreed easily and without complaint.

Pepper had called him absolutely adorable.

Tony’s to meet Peter at a small homey cafe just a street away from the tower. He spends a ridiculous amount of time primping himself up when the day comes, checking his reflection every three minutes. He wears his best suit, because first impressions matter. He wants Peter to know that he can provide, that he’s dependable… and maybe if he looks fuckable enough he might just be able to get Peter pregnant without the artificial insemination.

“Does this look like I’m trying too hard?” Tony asks, fixing his lapels.

“A ridiculous notion, sir. You’ve always been quite subtle,” JARVIS response with a dryness rivaling the desert.

“You think it’s good enough to impress my soon-to-be baby mama?”

“I don’t see why Mr. Parker wouldn’t be impressed. Your presence alone should invoke some awe.”

“You keep me grounded, Jay.” Tony laughs, finally heading to the elevators. He can’t be late.

“I do my best, sir. Have a pleasant meeting.”

—

It doesn’t take him long to get to the cafe, it takes him even less time to spot that fluffy head of brown hair nearly hidden in a cozy booth at the back of the room. The patrons in the cafe turn their heads at his entrance but soon return to their own affairs after he strolls passed.

As he nears the booth, Tony straightens his shoulders and pats down his suit. Peter has his back to him, his hands cradling a mug of what appears to be hot chocolate. He’s bundled up in a tight pair of jeans and a simple pastel yellow sweater, the sleeves long enough to cover half of his fingers. The outfit is nothing special, it’s the person in it that makes Tony’s chest constrict and his mouth water.

The next nine months are going to be fucking torture.

“Mr. Parker,” Tony greets as he slides smoothly into the opposite bench.

Peter’s head snaps up at his arrival, his posture going tense as he watches Tony slip off his tinted glasses. His nose and cheeks are ruddy from the cold, his eyes wide and glinting with surprise. Adorable. He goes to stand, but Tony hastily gestures for him to sit back down. “H-Hello, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony, please,” he says, giving the boy his warmest smile. He sets his glasses on the table between them and leans back against his seat, hoping that it isn’t too obvious that he’s ogling. “Thank you for meeting me today. It must’ve been a busy week for you.” 

Peter offers a shy smile. “It was… eventful. Ms. Potts was very kind to guide me through it.”

“Always the generous one that Ms. Potts,” Tony agrees with a nod. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there during the legal talk. Pepper locked me out.”

“Oh?” Peter cocks his head in curiosity. “Why’s that? I did think it was weird that you weren’t there. I mean I… I am going to, going to be carrying your child.”

Tony hastily bites his tongue to stop the sudden onslaught of adoring words building up in his throat. He could eat this kid right up. Just hearing Peter say those words… Tony’s so screwed.

“Apparently, I wasn’t in the right mindset to meet you. Pepper thought I would be a… distraction,” he explains, smiling easily as the waiter comes by. Tony orders black coffee and a few cakes on display for Peter despite Peter’s flustered protests.

“A distraction? How so?” He asks with so much innocence it’s near suffocating. 

Tony spends a moment watching Peter’s fingers trace along the rim of his mug. It gives him a second to breathe and think. He’s not the distraction, Peter is. Barely five minutes together and Tony’s caught. Like a fly in honey.

“I tend to fidget,” he says. “Never could sit still.”

“Me neither,” Peter admits, his nerves visibly easing.

“Legal talk always bored me. I’m happy to know things went well, though.” Tony taps his fingers against the edge of the table, trying his best not to let his gaze drop to Peter’s mouth after he takes a sip of his drink. “You had no complaints? No qualms?”

“N-No. What you offered is already beyond generous, Mr. Stark. It’s more than I ever expected.” Peter shakes his head vehemently, ruffling some of his curls out of place. “I just need enough to afford rent and pay off my student loans.”

Tony nods slowly. “Least I could do. You’re gonna have my baby, after all.” 

That gets an interesting reaction from Peter. If Tony hadn’t been watching so carefully, he wouldn’t have caught the blush blossoming over Peter’s cheeks under the dim cafe lighting. He ducks his head, too bashful to look Tony directly in the eye. It’s a little disappointing. Tony is already half-way in love with those eyes.

“How are you feeling about that?”

Peter tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, nose wrinkling as he thinks. “To be honest? Nervous but excited. Though it would be nice to pay off my debt, I’m glad I could be of use somehow. I have the means, why not use it for good.”

“That’s sweet of you, Peter,” Tony almost coos.

“Thank you, Tony.”

They speak a little more on the details of Peter’s living arrangements. Tony insists he move into the tower right after the insemination, but Peter declines on the basis of having to attend classes. His apartment is apparently closer to campus than the tower. Tony would have liked to push just a little. He wants Peter near once they know he’s pregnant. However, he’s gently coaxed into seeing reason. They come to a compromise. Peter won’t be moving into the tower until he starts to physically show.

He’ll accept it for now.

His coffee and Peter’s cakes arrive a moment later. Tony pushes both of the plates towards Peter, despairing over how loose the sweater seems on Peter’s already petite frame. He won’t stay that way for long, his file states that he’s perfectly healthy, but Tony worries.

“Eat more. A mild breeze could probably knock you off your feet,” Tony teases. He can almost hear Pepper and Rhodey chiding him about spoiling Peter before he’s even pregnant. Tony does what he always does: he ignores it.

“I’m stronger than I look,” Peter laughs softly, scooping up a piece of chocolate cake anyway. 

“I don’t doubt that, but I have to take care of my baby mama,” he jokes.

Peter lets out a startled squeak at that, blushing right up to his hairline. “Please don’t say it like that, Tony. That’s so embarrassing!”

“You’ll learn to get used to it.”

Peter laughs again, this time a little louder. It’s a freeing sound. Unrestrained and full of joy. Tony can almost taste the sweetness of it on his tongue. 

—

The appointment for the insemination takes place a couple of weeks later. In the meantime, he keeps in constant contact with Peter through texts and calls. Tony talks him through his check-ups, hoping his voice will be enough of a comfort for Peter during such an invasive ordeal.

They get to know more about each other through the weeks. Tony learns that Peter can be an immensely engaging conversationalist. He speaks about everything and nothing, rambling a mile a minute as he bounces ideas off of Tony for his own projects. He often stresses about graduation, he’s anxious about his future, his friends, his aunt. There are too many changes happening all at once. He’s overwhelmed, and yet so, so enthused about it all. He’s full of energy and youthful vitality. He’s eager to see what the future has for him. He’s even a little giddy about experiencing pregnancy for the first time.

Tony has had to stop himself from picking the boy up into a hug on multiple occasions.

“Ready to be knocked up?” Tony asks him the day of the appointment, keeping his eyes pointedly away from Peter’s exposed legs as he lounges back on the examination bed.

“Somehow I’m really glad you’re not a medical doctor,” Peter snorts.

“I’m insulted. Don’t you like the sound of Dr. Stark?”

Peter turns his face away to look at the posters along the wall to his right. Tony doesn’t have to look to know he’s blushing. “Dr. Stark sounds like he would be knee deep in misdemeanors a week into practise.”

Tony bites back a grin. “You wound me, Peter.”

“Just being realistic.” Peter whips his head back around to grin innocuously up at him.

“It’s fine. I can take care of you with or without a medical license.” Tony wags his eyebrows. 

“That doesn’t sound ominous at all…” 

It’s nice that he’s able to have meaningless conversations with Peter. It allows him to let his guard down a little more. For a while he can pretend that this is normal. He can pretend he’s not paying Peter to have his child. For a moment, they can just be Tony and Peter, a couple of expectant parents deliriously happy to have their first kid. It’s a lie, but Tony still clings to it.

“Seriously, though. Are you feeling okay? Are you ready for this?” Tony presses, his fingers itching to hold Peter’s hand. He won’t. Not unless Peter asks him to.

“I’m ready. I’ve been ready for a month now, Tony. I’m okay,” Peter reassures him, because of course he would. He’s a goddamn angel.

The process goes as well as it should. Tony sticks close when it’s appropriate, listening attentively as Dr. Hannigan passes along pamphlet after pamphlet. They leave the room feeling elated if slightly hysterical. Tony is overcome with an emotion he can’t describe, yet it feels suspiciously like arousal. Peter will be pregnant soon. Although Dr. Hannigan warns him to stay cautious, given that there is a chance they might have to try again, Tony is optimistic. He knows Peter will be pregnant.

As they make their way to the car, Peter silently takes his hand and squeezes. He beams up at Tony when it’s reciprocated. Tony’s heart all but bursts right out of his chest.

It’s about the same time he realises he might just have a pregnancy kink.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ` A short one!`
> 
> `Warning: masturbation and discussions of pregnancy `

It takes about two weeks for things to shift. Tony barely registers the subtle adjustment to his daily routine, how he seems to unconsciously slip freely into the mindset of a expectant father; cataloging everything in his home as too sharp, too dangerous, or unsuitable for a child. His long work binges remain strong, however, the time he’d previously allotted himself for “basic human necessity” is being spent online shopping. 

Designer baby clothes. Toys. Bathroom accessories. Books. He needs it all. He doesn’t feel at peace until he’s bought one or two items before promptly passing out on the couch. 

They aren’t even sure Peter is pregnant yet. Although Dr. Hannigan had informed them they would have to wait at least fourteen days, they both still sagged in disappointment when Peter’s first home pregnancy test a week later turns out negative. Peter had responded with optimism, assuring Tony that it would happen the next time, he knows it will. 

His positivity is horribly contagious. 

Late afternoon on the fifteen day after the insemination, Peter texts him. 

_PETER: i felt some cramps this morning! :D_

Tony responds with: Not how most people would react to getting cramps. I suppose this is a good sign? 

_PETER: a super good sign! maybe i’m pregnant now! that! or! that spicy enchilada i had last night really didn’t wanna be eaten!! D:_

TONY: I’m sure you wouldn’t like it if someone ate you without your permission. 

_PETER: couldn’t help it. it was too dang delicious_

TONY: Some would say the same thing about you

Peter doesn’t respond for a full ten minutes after that. It’s an unusual bout of silence considering Peter rarely stops to breathe, even while he’s texting. His reply does come eventually. 

_PETER: who would say that?_

TONY: You don’t know? 

_PETER: …no. who would say i’m delicious????_

Tony chuckles and tries not to dwell on the sudden burst of loneliness he feels when the sound isn’t responded. 

TONY: Cannibals, Pete. Cannibals. 

_PETER: :O no!!!!!!!_

They plan to meet up by the end of the week. Tony has to fight the urge to invite Peter to the tower right then and there. There’s a desperate, obsessive clawing in his chest that tells him he needs to see Peter constantly to check in on his well-being. He doesn’t want to seem desperate, though. Or, god forbid, creepy. But thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait until the end of the week, because the next evening, Peter shows up at the tower. 

Tony’s sorting through boxes of baby clothing when JARVIS announces Peter’s presence in the lobby. 

“Let him up, Jay. You might as well give him secondary access for now. Same as Pep and Rhodey. It might change but… you know…” Tony trails off absentmindedly, his arms full of onesies and tiny socks. Neutral colours. He’ll let the kid decide what they wanna be. “Set up a baby monitoring protocol while you’re at it. Once Peter comes to stay at the tower I want immediate alerts to any discomfort he experiences. He’s top priority, alright?”

“Very well, sir. May I suggest procuring a better mattress for Mr. Parker in the guest bedroom. It seems pregnancy is quite unkind to one’s back during the later trimesters,” JARVIS says. 

“Good idea, buddy. Go ahead and get the best one.” 

Peter steps out of the elevator right on time to witness Tony cradling a pair of white booties in his palms. Peter watches him silently, looking flushed and happy. His eyes are big as they take in the penthouse. They don’t linger for too long, inevitably landing back on Tony. 

He’s absolutely gorgeous today too. He gets more stunning every time Tony sees him. It’s unfair. Tony is constantly under attack and Peter barely notices. 

“I can explain,” Tony says, hugging the little booties to his chest. He must make quite a sight, sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes upon boxes, baby clothes strewn about the place.

“Sure. Go ahead.” Peter nods, looking far too amused. 

“They’ll need all of this. Every single thing.” Tony gestures to the clothes almost defensively. 

Peter walks further into the living room, weaving his way through opened boxes and children’s toys. He stops before Tony, his hands on his hips. Tony has to crane his neck to adapt, his eyes nearly at the same height as Peter’s stomach. 

To think Peter will be big and swollen there soon. 

He has _got_ to get it together. Jesus Christ. 

“I don’t think they’re gonna wear every single one.” Peter glances around, eyeing a certain pile off to the left. “Are those designer suits for toddlers?” 

“They can if we switch their outfits every hour. And yes, those are designer suits for toddlers. You think I would let the kid go out in anything other than designer?” he mutters, setting the booties down beside him so he can lean back on his hands. 

Peter hums, deciding not to address Tony’s casual implication that Peter will be present after the birth. It would only complicate things. They don’t know each other, not truly. It’s highly possible that they would’ve never even met in the first place had it not been for the agency. If anything, this is nothing more than a business transaction, an exchange of goods. Though Peter loath to call their unborn child “goods”… that’s just the thing, isn’t it? They won’t be Peter’s child. His only connection to them is primarily the biological kind. He won’t have any say in their growth. It’ll all be Tony, that’s been the intention this whole time. Peter is just the bearer. That’s all he should be. 

“You think really loud, you know that?” Tony smiles up at him, his head tilted to the side, his expression one of fascination, as if Peter is the most interesting phenomenon he’s ever encountered. 

“Well, you’d be thinking a lot too if you knew you were pregnant.” Peter shrugs, a grin already split across his face. 

“Good point. That’s—” Tony cuts himself off, his eyes growing wider by the second as he registers Peter’s words. He’s on his feet in a flash, arms flailing while he catches his balance. “W-Wait. Are you — when did you — are you really? You’re sure?” 

Before answering, Peter smoothly takes his phone out of his pocket and hastily snaps a photo of Tony’s face, capturing the awe and elation taking over his features. “Sorry. I… My friends wouldn’t believe me, and your face is too good right now.” 

Tony waves it off without a care, too deliriously happy to realise he’s crowding into Peter’s space. “You’re not kidding, right? You’re pregnant?” 

“I took two more tests after the first to be sure, but yeah. I…” Peter glances down between them at his flat stomach, blush high on his cheeks, his eyes round and glowing a warm honey from the setting sun at Tony’s back. “Yeah. Yes. I’m pregnant.” 

Tony doesn’t think when he unceremoniously wraps his arms around Peter’s waist to swing him in a big circle, too caught up in his own joy to recognise how inappropriate the action is. They knock over a few boxes in their excitement, and it’s Peter’s firm weight in his arms that keeps Tony’s feet on the ground. Peter’s squealing, his legs dangling freely, his hands clutching Tony’s shoulders in shock and amusement. He doesn’t pull away, which is a good sign. Tony won’t look too deeply into what that does to his heart. 

“Thank you,” Tony murmurs from where his lips are resting against Peter’s shoulder. “Thank you, Peter.” 

He’s going to be a father. The thought doesn’t bring as much terror as it used to. 

“You’re welcome, Tony.” Peter settles in his arms, exactly where he should be. 

— 

The subsequent blood test at the agency’s clinic confirms the results of the pregnancy test. Peter is carrying his child, which means… which means Tony will become a wreck if anything were to happen to either of them. Even though the tabloids haven’t caught wind of this yet, thankfully due to the agency’s tight confidentiality policy, it’s only a matter of time. A pregnancy will be hard to cover up and Tony would be damned if he ever let Peter go out on his own after he gets big enough. 

“We agreed,” Peter admonishes suddenly, peering up at Tony under his long eyelashes. “That face you’re making. I know what you’re thinking. We both agreed that I wouldn’t come to stay with you until I showed.” 

“Did I say something out-loud?” Tony asks, mockingly offended. 

“No. But you get that same look whenever you’re trying to convince me to stay at the tower,” Peter says, jabbing an accusing finger at his chest, his chin tipped up defiantly. Tony would be lying if he said his cock didn’t twitch from the way Peter is glaring up at him. 

“It would be the sensible thing to do,” he gently counters, sliding his hand along Peter’s arm, kneading the pads of his fingers over Peter’s bicep. A week ago, he wouldn’t have dared to be so bold with Peter, but he’s tactile by nature and Peter’s beginning to understand that. It’d taken his friends a little longer to grow accustomed to Tony’s need for tangible comfort given their fierce independent personalities, but Peter is crafted from the same mold. It’s easy for Peter to take Tony’s hand with both of his own and squeeze over his fingers. It’s a small gesture, but it means the world to Tony. Intimacy like this, he doesn’t get quite so often. 

“I would have to tell my landlord that I’ll be gone a month in advance. I would have to pack and that would take a while,” Peter tries to reason, his thumb rubbing mindless circles into the back of Tony’s hand. There’s about a few inches of space between them now, Tony practically looming over Peter, crowding him back towards the elevator doors. Peter had been on his way out, and Tony hadn’t liked that idea overall. 

“Then, I’ll buy your landlord out. I’ll buy the whole building. Just come and stay here. You don’t have to pack. I’ll get you new things. You’ll need new clothes later down the line anyway,” Tony persists. “In fact, we should just do that now. JARVIS—” 

“Nope! No. JARVIS, please, don’t.” Peter shakes his head, red from his cheeks to his neck. “You can’t keep throwing your money around like that. You’re gonna set a terrible example for the little one.” 

Peter is stubborn. Unfortunately, Tony is even more so. 

“I’ll convince you somehow.” He squints determinedly. 

Peter rolls his eyes fondly. “There’s too much to be done first. I don’t even wanna think about how long it’ll take for me to reassure aunt May you aren’t just taking me in for breeding.” Peter laughs, but Tony doesn’t. The longer his silence continues, the more strained Peter’s smile becomes until his laughter fades away altogether. “Oh god. It was a joke, Tony. A joke, I swear. It was her words, not mine! N-No one thinks you’re — I promise I was kidding! Oh my god.” 

Tony only manages a nod and a, “Mmhm.” 

— 

It keeps him awake all night. 

Breeding. Peter had joked about breeding — that Tony could — or Tony would—

It sounds so demeaning and dehumanizing. 

However… in the privacy of his own mind, Tony allows himself a minute to humour it. 

One hand sliding down to the waistband of his sweats, Tony pictures a time after their first child is born. Tony hadn’t planned on having multiple, but now that’s in his head, he can’t shake it. Would he ask Peter again? Would they be together by then? Tony would’ve had the balls to ask Peter out before planning for another baby, right? He isn’t uncouth. 

Would Peter say yes? Of course he would. He’s an angel. Such a good boy. Too good for anyone. 

That’s what makes it so thrilling: the very idea of Tony’s own hands ruining that perfect image, slowly drawing out Peter’s filthiest noises, gripping and pulling him in until he’s splayed across Tony’s expensive sheets, his legs spread and his hole gaping open for Tony’s cock to nestle into that scorching heat.

Would Peter beg for it? He doesn’t seem the type. Tony imagines Peter would be receptive and curious but awfully shy in bed. Unless he’s wrong and Peter can ride him as easily as a bike. Tony wouldn’t mind either, if he’s being truthful. 

Peter’s enthusiasm would surely carry into the bedroom. Tony can see him flipping onto his stomach and coaxing Tony in, whining and drooling for every inch Tony feeds him. He’d muffle his moans into the pillows, keening and pleading for Tony to go deeper until he’s full and dripping down his thighs. He’d blindly cradle his belly with one hand, hoping to catch the tip of Tony’s cock bumping against his palm, bulging through his skin. Once he gets what he wants, he’ll ask for more in that lovely voice of his that’s edging on spoiled and Tony would give and give and give.

Peter would want to be bred in this little world of Tony’s. He’d want to live out the rest of his days barefoot and pregnant with Tony’s children. He’d lay in bed and ask Tony to cum inside him again, to fold him in half with his knees resting near his ears so not even a single drop of Tony’s seed leaks. 

And maybe. Just maybe, he would tell Tony how much he loves him. Wrap his arms around Tony and whisper softly about everything and nothing. Press his lips against Tony’s smiling mouth, still rambling away, and Tony would pull back and see the wonder in his own eyes reflected in Peter’s. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he hisses, throwing his head back, his orgasm catching him off guard. His fist works slowly around his sputtering cock, palm rubbing along the tip and over the sides. Once his breathing calms, he starts to come back down. Without the pleasure, without Peter’s voice echoing in his mind, Tony feels like he’s crashing, hard and fast. 

He blinks around his dark room as his loneliness creeps over him again.

— 

The first month of pregnancy goes by relatively well. There aren’t any drastic changes or sudden bursts of tears. If Tony didn’t know any better, Peter would be like any regular college student. When he’s not in class, working on his projects, or spending time with his friends and his aunt, Peter is with Tony, either at the tower, or on the rare occasion, at a cookout in Pepper and Natasha’s backyard like today. 

Unsurprisingly, Peter’s gone from stranger carrying his baby to Tony’s entire world. He’s exaggerating of course, but he’s lovesick, so leave him alone. He’s already getting relentlessly teased by his friends, because Tony _had to_ fall in love with the surrogate he’s paying. 

“Maybe wait until the baby is born,” Steve suggests, his hand landing on Tony’s shoulder. He’s got a beer in the other, his posture relaxed as he watches Sam teach Peter how to handle the grill. Like this, Steve looks warm and comforting. It’s so… Steve. “I’m not saying what you feel isn’t real, because honestly, Peter is a catch. I’d just wait a while, make sure these feelings are still there at the end of all this.” 

Tony arches an eyebrow. Objectively, he understands Steve’s concern. He’s grateful that his friend would express it so wholeheartedly. He still can’t resist the desire to defend himself, though. He’s perfectly sound-minded. “Are you insinuating I’m imagining these feelings I have for Peter? What, because he’s carrying my kid? I’m not some horned up mutt looking to fill my nest or whatever.” 

Steve sighs, looking somewhat regretful he brought it up. “You didn't have to put it like that. Of all things. Look. Tell… tell me you’re sure about this and I’ll back off. But if that’s not something you can do then I won’t stand by and let you get yourself hurt.” 

Tony sighs with him. “Steve, I’m sure. I think probably more sure than I have been for a while now. He’s what I want. The kid is a big bonus. Now can we stop talking about this? Are you done mother-henning me?” 

Steve shakes his head at him. “Sure, Tony.” From his tone, this won’t be the end of it. 

— 

Two months in, Peter gains some impressive bags under his eyes. He’s finally experiencing morning sickness… and also afternoon and evening sickness. He’s nauseous for most of the day, which makes attending class difficult. 

“If I’d known this was how it was gonna be, I wouldn’t have let you knock me up,” Peter says crudely, startling an elderly couple they’re sitting next to in the same cafe they’d had their first meeting. 

“You say the sweetest things, honey,” Tony coos, throwing his arm across the back of Peter’s chair to pull him closer to his side. 

Peter gets cold easily now for some odd reason. Like he’s gonna question it. It gives him a chance to touch Tony without it being weird. 

“Urgh. Honey. Now I can’t eat any honey or I’ll throw up. I used to love honey!” Peter clamps a hand over his mouth, his body shaking against Tony’s side. He’s carrying a few vomit bags in his backpack, a necessity after he threw up on MJ a few days prior. She’d been a good sport about it. And by good sport, he means she hasn’t done something worse to him in retaliation. 

“How about some ginger tea. That should help, hm?” Tony gently pushes his hand through Peter’s bangs, his fingers cool on Peter’s feverish skin. He smells of fresh soap and cologne. Probably took a shower before he had picked Peter up from campus. 

“That would be nice. Thank you for being nice when I’m being so horrible.” Peter pouts. 

“Horrible? Horrible where? Who? You? You could never be anything but lovely, Pete,” Tony says. “I’ll be right back. You stay put.” 

Too exhausted to respond, Peter only whines softly and lets Tony get up. 

Left to himself for a bit, he decides he’ll type up a message in the group chat while no one’s looking over his shoulder. 

PETER: feeling bad :( but tony’s getting me ginger tea :) 

_NED: he better be making it himself if he’s putting you through morning and evening sickness. still cute tho_

PETER: we’re at the cafe. he looked really worried 

_MJ:Of course your baby daddy is gonna be worried. I was worried. You looked pretty green earlier. Almost as green as that vomit that landed on my pants._

PETER: i said i was sorry!! D:

_MJ: You owe me new pants. Better yet. Let your sugar daddy get me the whole store._

PETER: !!!! emotional manipulation!!!! 

_NED: would he get me the new StarkPhone if you vomited on me too? you can vomit on me anytime, bro_

PETER: i’m not gonna talk to you guys anymore >:( 

_NED: okay. okay. you can get back to your baby daddy_

PETER: stop!! calling!! him!! that!!! >:O 

_MJ: Alright, baby mama._

Peter stuffs his phone back into his pocket with a huff. At the same time, Tony sets a mug of tea before him, his other hand coming to squeeze the back of Peter’s neck. It’s a firm, stabling feeling Peter’s not used to. 

“Everything alright?” Tony asks, reclaiming his seat. 

“Yeah! Yeah. Everything’s fine.” Peter nods furiously, reaching for his mug to take the first sip. 

“Hm.” Tony nods back. “So… would you call me your baby daddy if _I_ asked you to?” 

Peter burns the roof of his mouth mid-sip. 


	3. Chapter 3

Some issues arise on the second month of the pregnancy. Small things, really. Peter’s fitting shirts can no longer conceal his bump, he wants larger meal portions despite knowing the embryo is no bigger than a raspberry, and the walls of his apartment are steadily closing in on him inch by inch. Ned claims that it’s the accumulation of gifts Peter is constantly receiving from Tony.

Tony’s knowledge of pregnancy is shaped by the books and pamphlets Dr. Hannigan recommends. He has no practical experience outside of waiting in the hallway when Pepper had gone into labour, hence he’s clueless as to what to expect. The pregnancy experience varies from one person to another. There’s no guarantee that Peter will enjoy being pregnant, so Tony likes to be a step ahead and apologise now while he has the chance.

Or so Tony says.

Peter has had to reassure him on numerous occasions that there will be nothing to grovel about. Granted, Tony most likely wouldn’t do anything that would warrant profuse apologies in the first place, he’s practically perfect as is. Another issue that Peter has had to come to terms with.

From what Peter’s read and heard from former surrogates, it is not uncommon for bearers to develop friendships with the intended parents. In most cases, it’s encouraged for the process to be a positive one. Peter needn’t feel guilty about getting closer to Tony, it’s not that unusual. However, what they don’t mention is how to deal with bearers falling in love with the expectant parent. It’s not unprecedented, of course. There have been cases, scandals more like, but they’re rarely discussed unless you go digging for them.

Why isn’t there a whole guide book?! He’s not cut out for this!

The staring doesn’t help.

And Tony stares, a lot.

He’s not subtle about it either. When Peter adjusts his shirts over his bump, Tony’s eyes fixate like a predator on the pursuit of easy prey. He doesn’t seem to care if he’s caught, as if he wants Peter to know. The dark intensity of it would drown Peter if he hadn’t trained himself to ignore it.

“You can touch if you want to.”

Tony blinks, gaze flickering back up to Peter’s pink face. He says nothing, makes no move. Peter supposes he’s having one of those days. Tony gets in these moods once in a while where he’ll fall quiet for an hour or so as he watches Peter go about mundane tasks. The first time it happened, Peter was surprised Tony could be silent for so long. When they’re together, it’s beautifully chaotic. Their chatter is often ceaseless. So it’d confused him when Tony had one day come up from his workshop and wordlessly joined him on the couch to watch him study. He’d lounged back with one leg tucked under his thigh, sitting so close Peter could taste the engine oil and metal on the roof of his mouth.

It’s not an uncomfortable silence. Peter adores those moments as much as their manic back and forth. It’s that… Tony has a way of making Peter feel seen.

If it were anyone else it would be creepy. Peter feels strangely vulnerable in that position too, as though he’s being analysed like some specimen under a microscope. Since it is Tony, Peter knows the habit wasn’t born from malicious intent. 

Tony says he doesn’t know why he does it, but it gives him a sense of peace.

“I-It’s your baby, Tony. I don’t mind. It’s cool if you wanna. N-No pressure. I mean, you won’t be able to feel much, they can’t kick yet, but I’m just saying you can, you d-don’t even need to really ask—” Peter’s hands flaps about him, sitting up from where he’s spread out on the couch. It’s a stormy day and he’s waiting out the rain before he heads home to continue packing, but his feet kinda hurt and now he doesn’t wanna get up. Tony had found him like that, cheering on a fat raindrop slithering down the window and promptly perched himself on the arm rest on the other side. He’s been sitting there for a good ten minutes.

“Really?” Tony starts, blinking again at Peter, like he’s shocked that it’s a thing he can do.

“Yeah,” he laughs, extending his hand to Tony. “I don’t mind.”

Tony nods and allows himself to be guided down so he’s sitting beside Peter rather than above him, getting near enough to have their thighs touching.

“Wait,” Tony says, taking his hand back to rub his palm over his jeans. “I haven’t washed my hands yet. Maybe I should—” 

“Tony, it’s okay. The kid isn’t going to judge,” Peter soothes, tugging on Tony’s wrist to bring him closer.

There’s no resistance this time and Tony’s fingers splay out over Peter’s t-shirt, so much larger than the bump. Once Peter releases his wrist, his hand begins to slide over the curve of Peter’s stomach, his eyes bright and face slack in what Peter can assume is awe.

“Wow,” Tony breathes, face hovering just an inch from Peter’s belly… and not to mention his crotch. “You’re already this big.”

Peter swallows back an offended noise at that.

“According to the pregnancy book, you’ve only just developed a brain. Ain’t that something?” Tony says to the bump, his thumb drawing small circles. “We Stark’s have pretty good brains. Well, you’re a Parker and a Stark, so you’re gonna be a force to be reckoned with. Bet you’ll be even smarter than your old man one day.”

“They’ll be building their first circuit board in no time.”

Tony peers back up at Peter, smile split wide across his face. “Yeah, you’ll be better. You’ll do so much. But only if you want to. I’ll make sure you have the choice. To borrow Peter’s words, no pressure.”

Peter turns his face to the windows again, unwilling to let Tony see the dopey smile on his face. Tony doesn’t seem to mind as he talks and talks, caressing over Peter’s tiny bump like he’ll get a response if he keeps going.

Peter tries not to feel too strongly about it. He tries not to _want._

They haven’t addressed what this whole situation is yet. They’ve been dancing around each other, or rather, it’s just Peter being helplessly pulled into Tony’s orbit. He doesn’t know what to make of it.

“How you feeling, mama?”

Peter responds with a high unfathomable noise.

“Wow, really? Fascinating,” Tony chuckles.

“I’m feeling fine,” Peter rolls his eyes, “daddy.”

He had meant for it to sound facetious, but Tony freezes like he’s been physically struck. Peter only realises what he’d said seconds later, and his face flushes like an unfurling rose.

Tony recovers faster than Peter does, clearing his throat loudly. “You didn’t finish your sandwich during lunch. You didn’t like it?” Tony asks, picking himself up from his crouch to put some space between them.

Peter suppresses a wince. “I… uh… I’ve just been feeling off. Guess I’m nervous about the appointment tomorrow.”

Tony latches onto the distraction. “What are you nervous about?”

“What am I _not_ nervous about?” Peter slouches back against the couch. “What if there’s a problem with the baby? What if there’s a problem with me? 4% of male bearers can’t carry a baby to term. What if I’m one of them?”

Tony slides up to sit beside him again, winding his arm around Peter’s shoulders and bringing him in to nestle into his side. Peter instantly melts against him, bringing his legs up to curl protectively over his belly. “The baby is going to be fine. You’re going to be fine. And the agency would’ve warned us if there was even the slightest chance that you wouldn’t be able to carry to term. You’ve passed all the tests, you’re healthy, and I have no doubt that the baby is healthy too.”

“Can’t you just let me be irrationally paranoid for a minute? You don’t have to be reasonable about everything,” Peter groans.

“Trust me, being reasonable is a first for me,” Tony laughs, and Peter can feel his grin pressed against the side of his head.

Not a kiss, not a kiss. Definitely not a kiss.

Tony does this all the time. He’s physically affectionate with all his friends. And Peter can be considered a friend now. It means absolutely nothing.

Now to just not be disappointed that it means absolutely nothing.

—-

Tony is running ten minutes late to Peter’s first ultrasound appointment due to traffic. He’s left waiting, listening to Happy curse at ambitious drivers trying to cut him off. After the car moves about a feet forward, Tony scrambles out of the car and starts down the street.

“Boss! It’s too far—”

“Stay with the car, Hap!” Tony shouts over his shoulder, already going at a light jog.

Alright, so Tony didn’t estimate the distance beforehand, at least he won’t get lost. He sends off a text to Peter explaining why he’ll be late as he dodges a teenaged dog-walker and her five labradoodles, narrowly avoiding getting urinated on. He hops and weaves his way through the lunch crowd and makes it out with only a coffee stained shirt. New Yorkers really don’t give a shit that he’s in a hurry, because everyone is in a rush to get somewhere.

Sympathy is for slow people… and tourists.

For a second, Tony mourns his new Tom Ford suit. He had wanted to look presentable for Peter’s first ultrasound, now the memory will be concomitant with the stink of sweat and cheap coffee.

Ugh. Whatever.

He gets to the hospital in the end, but he had to sacrifice a lung along the way. He’s pretty sure one of them burst. Either that or he’s having a stroke. He almost collapses at the front desk and all but wheezes out Peter’s name. The poor startled nurse fortunately recognizes him and directs him down a hallway. He stumbles away with a shaky smile and a wink, because there’s sweat dripping into his right eye so he’s playing it off.

“I’m here! I made it.” Tony bursts into the room. The first person he sees is Peter, his shirt bunched bellow his chest, reclining back on the examination bed, his small bump on display. Tony would stare if his world isn’t steadily tipping sideways.

“Tony!” Peter initially looks ecstatic that he’s made it but then very concerned when he takes in the state Tony is in. “Why… why do you look like you just survived the apocalypse?”

“You think I would survive the apocalypse?” Tony pants, fixing his tie with shaky hands.

“To be honest, I think you’d perish on the third day, but I didn’t wanna say it. That would be too mean.” Peter beckons him closer, tissue already in hand to wipe his brow.

“…But you just said it,” Tony mutters, allowing Peter to dab at his forehead.

“Mr. Stark, it’s nice that you could join us. We were getting worried you wouldn’t make it,” their midwife, a middle-aged round-faced woman named Paula, says from the sidelines.

“Sorry I’m late. I… ran here.” Tony dumps the tissue and plops himself down on the stool beside Peter’s bed. He almost groans in relief. He’s really starting to feel his age.

“You ran all the way here?” Peter’s eyebrows scrunch in worry. “What about the car?”

Tony’s laughter comes in huffs. “I almost busted a lung and you’re concerned about the car? Happy’s with the car.”

“Well, as long as Happy is with the car,” Peter says teasingly, stuffing more tissues down Tony’s shirt collar.

“Shall we get started?” Paula smiles, already stepping closer with the lubricating gel. At Peter’s nod, she smears a generous amount onto Peter’s skin, apologising for the coldness when Peter yelps. She slides the probe gently over Peter’s lower abdomen, seeking out the raspberry sized child. “Alright… Let’s see…”

Tony doesn’t know when he stops breathing, waiting to hear that first heartbeat, to witness it with his own eyes and ears, the evidence that his baby is well and alive. He must’ve turned blue, because Peter lays a hand on his shoulder, reminding him to breathe, his own eyes wide and unblinking. Tony grips his fingers and waits patiently.

“Here we go…”

The sound is nothing like anything Tony’s ever heard. It’s not a hum or a whir of an engine. It’s not the curious beeps made by Dum-E and U. It has none of JARVIS’ measured sarcastic cadence. But it warms him all the same. It’s a fast, balanced rhythm, brimming with life and vitality. Tony almost doesn’t believe something so strong and loud can come from such a small thing. The embryo can barely be seen until it’s pointed out.

“There’s your little bean,” Paula says, bracketing said bean between her thumb and forefinger. “All good and snug.”

Peter lets out a small laugh and squeezes Tony’s hand tighter. “Looks like a cute little blobby alien.”

Tony hums in agreement.

“That’s a good strong heartbeat, too” Paula tells them. “The ideal would be 120 to 180 beats per minute for how far along you are now. I think we’re getting about 174 to 176 here. It’s a healthy heartbeat.”

“That’s good. That’s… awesome. Great. Wow,” Peter says breathlessly. “Growing a human being is pretty cool. Definitely not like those dinosaur hatching eggs I had as a kid.”

“It’s a little different, yes,” Paula laughs.

“Holy shit,” Tony whispers, turning to look at Peter’s goopy belly then back to the monitor. “Pete, I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“I didn’t do much.” Peter giggles shyly, his ears flushing pink. “Don’t really have much control over it.”

“Still,” Tony gestures rapidly between Peter and the monitor, “you’re amazing…”

—-

They arrange their next appointment for the following month before they head out. Happy has the car parked out front by then and Peter gives him a cheerful wave as he gets in, filling Happy in on how the ultrasound went.

He chirps and makes large, excitable gestures, using his hands to demonstrate the size of the baby.

Tony is content to watch Peter talk, avoiding Happy’s shrewd gaze. He knows he looks like a besotted fool. He doesn’t need anyone to point it out to him.

He’ll yearn all he fucking wants, especially when Peter glances up at him like that, his smile bright enough to burn.

“I can’t wait to show MJ. Pretty sure she just thinks I’ve been drinking too much beer lately,” Peter tells Happy and Tony laughs along.

Silently, Peter slides his delicate fingers over Tony’s outstretched palm and _grips_. It’s as easy as anything. Almost simultaneously, Tony feels a lurch in his chest, like Peter’s pulling him in with a kind guiding hand. He doesn’t have to cling, doesn’t meet much resistance, anyway, as he lightly tugs at that tether around Tony’s heart, reeling him the rest of the way. Tony goes, pliantly and willingly. Like the sucker that he is.

Truth be told, the only reason Tony hasn’t made a move is because he’s afraid it’s all pregnancy hormones on Peter’s part, and Peter will wake up one morning and realise that he’s with a broken old man. It’s a ridiculous and unfounded fear, but Tony hasn’t felt so much for anyone before Peter. For the past two months he’s been floating, the ground nowhere in sight. He flies and he _wants_ in every way possible. He wants so deeply that it terrifies him. No matter how unlikely it may be, if or — god forbid — when they end horribly, Tony knows it’ll leave him more hollow than he was before. 

Even if Peter has given him no indication of that ever happening, even though he’s expressed interest in being a part of Tony and the child’s life (well, he’s never protested the idea anyway), Tony wants to be amongst the clouds for a little bit longer. He’s scared shitless that if he gives in, he’ll mess up, that will be the end, and he’ll plummet to the ground. What can go wrong, _will_ go wrong.

The logical course of action is to talk through it with Peter rather than fall back into default evasiveness. He could share some of the burden, let Peter hold up a bit of the weight, but why reveal any vulnerability at all when it’s so much easier to hide it? Why give someone the chance to use it against him? Why give them that power?

It’s that — Peter isn’t just _someone,_ is he?

“You might as well be talking out loud,” Peter says, bumping his shoulder.

“That would undermine the basis of self-preservation.”

Peter lifts an eyebrow at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Why would anything be wrong?”

“Your eyes are doing that thing. Like you’re physically trying to rearrange your thoughts into categories,” Peter says, letting go of his hand to cradle his stomach. Tony instantly misses his warmth.

“I like things in alphabetical order more,” Tony murmurs absently.

“What you thinkin’ about, baby daddy?”

Tony’s body twitches, his mouth twisting in a grimace. “I swear you do that just to see me have a mini stroke.”

Peter gives him an unabashed grin. “That’s part of it.”

Running a hand down his face, Tony turns to look out the window. “I’ve just been thinking—”

“Oh. Spicy.”

“Will I get to speak one whole sentence without you sassing me?”

“Unlikely, but please continue.”

Tony sighs fondly. “I was just wondering, well, I was thinking and wondering… You…” he pauses, swallowing loudly around nothing, “you’re going to stay after, uh, after the birth, right? You’re not going to just disappear on us?”

“What?” Peter gasps. “No. Of course I won’t just disappear. That would be so shitty. I… I didn’t know you wanted me around after the birth.”

“We would love to have you around, Pete. You’re a friend.” _You’re a part of this family._ Tony’s hand finds Peter’s bump again, as if to convey that to his unborn child, hope that Peter will get the message too somehow.

Peter doesn’t promise anything, he merely smiles.

—-

At the end of the fourth month, Tony’s meticulously maintained self-control begins to fray. He’s going through a goddamn crisis! 

Peter’s getting bigger, an inevitability that still blind sides Tony for the sheer impact it has on him. It would’ve been fine if Peter was simply round in the middle, but the change has caused him to begin _waddling_ everywhere. He’ll have his hands braced against his lower back, and he’ll pad slowly to where he wants to be. He’s not too large yet, but Peter isn’t used to the extra weight. It’s honest to god adorable.

“Massages do wonders for the aches and pains,” Pepper provides, jabbing her knee into Tony’s leg not so subtly.

“A massage would be great. My lower back has been killing me,” Peter groans, slowly stretching his spine into a curve. Tony really doesn’t wanna ogle, but he’s a weak man. “And it gets worse?! How worse can it get?”

“Wait until your third trimester to find out,” Natasha speaks up from where she’s playing with Dmitri on one of the armchairs.

“That’s so ominous. Almost as much as Ned waiting for me to explode Alien style,” Peter sighs, stroking a hand down the front of his bump, which isn’t so much a bump anymore but a small hill.

“I wouldn’t exclude it from the list of possibilities. You’re carrying Tony’s hell spawn,” Natasha teases.

Peter presses his smiling lips together, unwilling to rise to the bait.

“I resent that,” Tony says, the beginnings of a pout forming on his lips.

“How’s moving going, Peter?” Pepper quickly drives the conversation towards a lighter subject, spotting the potential argument coming from a mile away.

“I have what I need packed and I should be moving in any day now,” Peter explains. “Took me a while to decide what to bring since I’ll be moving back four months from now.”

Tony has to bite the inside of his cheeks to prevent himself from offering Peter a permanent place in the penthouse, specifically Tony’s own bedroom. Another day.

“Stay a little longer. It’s good for newborns to have their bearers close,” Natasha says.

Peter opens his mouth to reply, but stops short to glance in Tony’s direction. “We haven’t really discussed—”

“Whether or not the kid will know?” Natasha interjects with a perfectly neutral expression. “You’re obviously going to be around. They should know.”

“I’m… I don’t know. Wouldn’t that violate some of the agreements we have printed in the contract?” Peter asks, staring down at his belly.

“We’re not scared you’ll steal the baby in the middle of the night. Even if you did, you wouldn’t get far.”

Peter gives Tony a pointed look. “Is that a challenge?”

Pepper sighs. “The contract states that you _would_ be in violation of the contract if you were to demand full custody of the child despite having prior knowledge that you would be giving said full custody to Tony. You’re not doing anything wrong by just being a part of the kid’s life, Peter.”

“I just don’t wanna be sued,” Peter whines. “I don’t have anything.”

“No one’s suing you.” Tony rolls his eyes.

“Only because you don’t have the guts to,” Natasha murmurs, passing Dmitri to Tony when he makes grabby hands at him.

Tony ignores her in favour of adjusting the three-year-old on his lap. He grips tightly onto Tony’s shirt, resting his head by his shoulder. Tony can’t believe he’s gotten so big, at one point he was able to cradle the kid’s entire body with just his hands.

“What’s up, kiddo?” Tony coos, bouncing him on his knee.

“No, Unca Tony!” Dmitri makes a soft annoyed whine at being jostled.

To appease him, Tony retrieves one of the plush toys haphazardly strewn about the living room floor, and hands the boy one of the bears. Dmitri hugs it tight, nuzzling his face into the fur. Tony takes his eyes off him after a while to listen in on the conversation happening on the other end of the couch.

Pepper’s ranting away about the incompetence of some members from the SI PR team. An obscure gossip magazine had caught wind of Peter. They’d put out a rather cryptic article about Peter’s involvement with Tony’s “newfound interest” in childcare technology. They’d called Peter his new beau. The PR team had seen to the article’s removal from the website, but Tony had briefly considered paying the company to keep it up.

He saw an opportunity.

Rumors, terrible as they are in general, can be pretty beneficial to Tony in this case. Still a horrible thing to do, shoving a pregnant person under the scrutiny of a bloodthirsty industry, but… maybe it would give Peter a push in the right direction. Preferably towards Tony’s arms.

The first step is awareness, after all. Peter has to be conscious of him.

However, he knows that he would be going against Peter’s wishes. In addition, Peter’s only twenty-two-years-old. He doesn’t need that sort of publicity right now. And if Pepper were to find out, he’d be scolded for a lifetime about consent and discretion.

“Unca Tony,” Dmitri calls for his attention, his little hand tugging at Tony’s sleeve. “Thirsty.”

“Yeah? What do you want? Some juice?” Tony carries the boy on his hip into the kitchen and goes rummaging through the fridge.

“‘Range,” Dmitri murmurs, pointing to the pitcher.

“Orange it is.” Tony pours the juice into a small plastic cup, hands it to Dmitri, takes him back to place him in Peter’s arms, then returns to the kitchen to get Peter a glass of milk. He doesn’t realise what’s he’s done until he’s sitting down. Peter is too busy helping Dmitri drink his juice, but Pepper and Natasha are blatantly staring at him. “…What?”

“You look good as a dad,” Pepper says before her wife can make a sly comment.

“I look good as anything,” Tony retorts.

“Just take the compliment.” Pepper rolls his eyes.

“When have you known me to _not_ take a compliment?”

“He’s deflecting.” Natasha squints at him judgementally.

“You would make an awesome dad,” Peter says, beaming over the top of Dmitri’s head.

Tony coughs, his giant grin hard to conceal. “Thanks, Pete.”

“Daddy?” Dmitri inquires behind his cup.

“Yeah, kiddo. Your Unca Tony is gonna be a daddy soon,” Tony tells him, scooting over next to Peter.

“Where da baby?”

“They’re in Peter’s belly,” he rubs a hand over Peter’s bump, “just like when you were living in your mom’s belly for a while.”

Dmitri gasps, mouth wide open in surprise. “Baby in here?” He passes Tony his cup and drapes himself over Peter’s bump, winding his arms around it. “Hello?”

Peter coos and strokes his fingers through the tufts of hair on Dmitri’s head. “They can’t say hello back yet, but I bet they’re listening.”

Dmitri nods, however, as a child with little understanding about pregnancies, it’s not a second later that Dmitri calls out again. Louder this time. “Hello! I’m ‘Mitri!”

“Whoa,” Tony laughs, tugging Dmitri back. “You’re gonna damage their ears at this point. You’ve got a pair of lungs on ya, kid.”

“You don’t have to be woken up at four in the morning by it,” Natasha snorts.

“You been tormenting your moms?” Tony asks, cradling the boy in his arms. “Been a lil nightmare?”

“No! I’m angel,” he giggles, running his little fingers over Tony’s goatee.

Tony snaps his teeth playfully at his fingers, cackling when the boy squeals. “Sounds like something a demon would say…”

Dmitri shakes his head, blowing air into his cheeks. “No! Not demon! Angel!”

Amid his laughter, Tony makes the mistake of looking up. 

Peter’s watching him. His eyes are soft, and his ears are pink. There’s an emotion remarkably close to yearning in his expression. It has Tony’s hopes soaring high above his head. That isn’t plain fondness on Peter’s face. He would know. No. He looks downright wistful. 

—-

Peter moves in the following week, tugging along one measly suitcase and a backpack slung over one shoulder. Tony’s both elated and anxious. Elated that he’ll finally have Peter in his home where he can keep an eye on him most hours of the day, and anxious because he can’t jerk off as loudly as he wants to now that the object of his affections and the sole cause for his sore wrist will be in the room next to his. 

“This is everything you need?” Tony asks as Peter ambles around the room, putting his clothes away in the expansive closet. 

“Mmhm.” 

“Do those even fit you anymore? Should we go shopping? You won’t be this size for long.” 

“It’s fine, Tony.” 

“It’s getting cold out. We should go get you a bigger coat or something. You’ll catch a chill—” 

“Oh my god. It’s fine!” Peter snaps, whirling around on him so fast that Tony stumbles back a step in shock. 

To say Tony’s stunned would be a gross understatement. Peter seldom raises his voice. He gets annoyed, definitely, however there’s never been a time where his ire was directed at Tony. He can admit that he’s somewhat overbearing but Peter always took things in stride. He humored Tony’s more obnoxious tendencies. Hell, Peter had some of his own. 

It’s like a switch had been flipped and Tony’s stepped into a bad dream where he’s a nuisance to Peter. 

Unfortunately, he knows this is real, because it hurts like a bitch. 

“Look, I’m just… I’m not feeling all that well right now.” Peter shuts his eyes, his fingers digging into his temples as if to ward off a migraine. “C-Could I just be alone for a bit? Please?” 

Tony’s mouth opens and closes, debating how he should be responding. Eventually, he manages a, “Okay. Yeah. No problem,” and backs out of the room. 

Numbly, Tony leaves the penthouse altogether and heads down to his workshop, hoping that destroying something will distract him from the tearing wound in his chest. He doesn’t want to think. Not yet. He doesn’t wanna know what he’s done to ruin things this time. He’s always fucking up somehow. He wouldn’t be surprised if he offended Peter in his sleep. 

Once dinner time rolls around and Tony’s shirt is thoroughly singed at the hem, JARVIS reminds him that he should check in on Peter. Tony’s aligned his own schedule with Peter’s, wanting to ensure that Peter ate three meals a day. Even if he would rather stay in his workshop, he convinces himself to get his ass back to Peter. He can’t mope all day. His therapist says it’s unhealthy and Tony’s trying to be good. 

“Jay, is he okay?” 

“Mr. Parker seems to be experiencing a bout of fatigue, otherwise, he’s exceptionally healthy,” JARVIS informs him. “I’m also detecting high levels of hormones, but they don’t seem to hinder Mr. Park too severely.” 

“Hormones…” Tony says flatly. “…Makes sense.” 

“He is currently in the kitchen, sir.” 

“Thanks.” Tony nods vacantly. 

Peter’s grilling what smells like bacon when Tony enters the penthouse. He stands a step away from the sizzling pan, clutching a spatula against his chest, like he’s using it as protection. There’s a pout on his lips, a flush high on his cheeks, and his hair is mussed in all directions. Hormones… right. 

“Peter? You alright?” Tony slowly draws closer as he would with a cornered animal. 

“Fine,” he says curtly, not bothering to turn to look at Tony. 

“Do you want something with your bacon?” he tries again. 

“No. Just want bacon.” 

“…You sure you’re alright? Do you want me to get you anything?” 

“How about some silence?” 

Tony exhales through his nose in frustration. “You wanna be a grown up about this and actually tell me what’s going on?” 

That hits a nerve. 

With a clang, Peter slaps down the spatula on the counter and turns off the stove. Without batting an eyelash, he picks up the pan and stomps out passed Tony. 

He hears Peter’s door slam a few seconds after. 

—- 

Evening arrives to find Tony slouched against the couch with a StarkPad in his still hands, the television playing an old rerun of a war documentary in the background. He should be tending to some emails Pepper had marked as important, but his eyes go unseeing. 

JARVIS had said that Peter’s going through hormonal changes due to the pregnancy. There’s no reason to be alarmed. It’s par for the course. Yet it still has Tony more anxious than any human should be. What can he do to help? He’s supposed to do something, right? There’s got to be something. 

Except… he doesn’t get much time to think on it before he hears Peter striding out of his room. 

Tony cranes his head to watch him charge in the direction of the couch, his determined gaze zeroing in on Tony. He sits down next to him and groans like the world has done him wrong. 

“This sucks,” Peter grits out. 

“What, sweetheart?” 

“This,” he says, gesturing wildly towards himself. Tony takes a look at him, heart in his throat at the idea of there being something so severely wrong that Peter can actually see it physically. “I’m cranky and no matter what I do it just won’t go away!” 

Tony straightens up to mute the television. “What can I do to help?” 

“Nothing! You can’t do anything,” Peter says, though it doesn’t sound much like he’s insulting Tony’s capabilities. There's nothing but a bone deep weariness. “You can’t.” 

“There’s obviously something I can do." He twists bodily to Peter. “What is it? If I can help then I wanna.” 

Another groan. 

“C’mon. Let me help,” Tony gently coaxes. 

Peter scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip, defeat has him sinking further into the cushions. His hormones must be really tormenting him if he’s giving in so quickly. Peter’s known to be stubborn. He doesn’t complain, refuses to be a burden on others. He’s a “why bother someone else when he can fix it himself” kind of person. 

“I-I’ve… I… I’ve just been horny all the time, okay!? I don’t know what to do. I jerked off five minutes ago and I still feel like I could go again,” Peter blurts out, his flush spreading right down to his chest. “This is all your fault. It’s your fault. I can’t even buy myself a toy because I’m scared you’ll find it! And also I don’t have money to buy a toy!” 

Tony’s eyes blink one at a time. Well. He should’ve seen that coming. He really, really should’ve seen that coming. He could’ve. There are cameras in Peter’s room. And alright! To be fair! He did install them as a precaution. Something could go wrong! Also, there are cameras everywhere in the penthouse except for the bathrooms. He’s not _completely_ crass. 

“Oh. _Oh_.” 

Peter huffs, his confidence returning to him bit by bit. “Y-You better do something about it. I can’t live like this anymore! A-And you put this baby in me! You should be taking responsibility for this!” 

Tony lets himself breathe for a moment. He desperately needs it.

Once he feels that he’s collected himself, he squares his shoulders, surges forward into Peter’s space and the last thing he sees is Peter leaning in to meet him half-way before his mouth is on Tony’s.

**Author's Note:**

> come and talk to me [@peters-tofu](https://peters-tofu.tumblr.com/)


End file.
